


dear gray skies, let me be just as blue

by potstickermaster



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, what season 5 this is pre-season 2 lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 04:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potstickermaster/pseuds/potstickermaster
Summary: “How high up do you have to be until the rain is no more?”“I can take you up there if you’d like,” Kara offers.Or an au where Kara first meets Lena as Supergirl, as the young Luthor stands on her office balcony in the rain; inspired bythis plastic-pipes artworkfrom long ago





	dear gray skies, let me be just as blue

**Author's Note:**

> hello not dead yet unfortunately. please don’t lecture me about rain and the atmosphere i’m dumb and gay and just wanted this done. big hot mess comin right up all mistakes mine goodbye.

It’s raining. 

Back when Kara first came to this planet, rain was the worst. She couldn’t do anything about her super-hearing and she was able to hear every little thing that happened—the faintest whispered secret, the slightest buzz of an insect, the softest shuffling of leaves in the lightest of winds. Rain drove her insane. She could hear each of the million drops, needles on skin, and thunder shook her to the very core that if it weren’t to Eliza’s soothing voice or Alex’s patience each time, Kara didn’t know how she would have survived. 

Now that she is older and more in control of her powers, the rain has become a thing of comfort for Kara. It drowns the sounds of most things, brings out a smell of the earth that reminds Kara of Midvale, and it somehow slows the life in National City. She isn’t one to feel cold—though she remembers the memory of it that one time she solar-flared and Kara did _ not _ like it—and she prefers sunlight much more, but the cool droplets against her skin feels nice. Comforting. 

With her patrol over the city done, all Kara had to do was return to the DEO and she could go home until she was called for duty. It’s become routine now and it’s easy to get bored. On one hand, she craves the action and the thrill of it—very rarely could she go all-out with her powers, after all. 

On the other hand, peace is nice. It means no one is in trouble and she can take her time like this, flying over National City and letting the raindrops pelt over her cape, her hair and skin. Nothing much to think about. No city to save. No dual lives to live. No Kara Danvers, no Supergirl. Just white noise. Her. 

It’s comforting. 

Alex’s voice comes through. “Everything okay, Supergirl?” 

“Hm?” Kara doesn’t realize she has stopped mid-flight, just floating above the city, wind billowing her cape. She opens her eyes, not realizing she has closed them, too. “Oh. Yeah. Just enjoying the rain, is all.” 

She could hear the smile in Alex’s voice when she replies. “Alright. You don’t have to get back here. Enjoy the rest of the day off. At least, you know. You’re called.” 

Kara smiles. “Thank you, Agent Danvers.” 

The heroine lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes again, shutting off the rest of the world. A cool wind blows past and the rain falls just a bit harder. She could hear people’s footsteps, sprinting out of the open, muttered curses of forgetting to bring an umbrella. Somewhere, a mother calls out for her son to stop playing in the rain lest he gets sick. 

She remembers Krypton, in moments like this. Weather was controlled back home—back _ there— _and rain was only induced when needed. No random rainfalls, no forgotten umbrellas. The predictability of rain made it mundane to others, but even then, Kara was curious. She takes it from her father, she was told.

She takes a shuddering sigh. 

Most days, Kara tells herself to move on. Krypton is no more, after all, but moving on does not mean forgetting, does it? Clark, _ Kal-El _—he doesn’t know of Krypton, doesn’t know it like Kara had. He was a baby when it exploded, and he didn’t know of the loss of a planet, not like Kara had. Kara watched Krypton die. She still sees it every time she closes her eyes.

She can’t forget. Kara promises herself not to forget, for if she does, who will remember?

Her hearing moves past the movement of people below and hones in on a racing heartbeat, just nearby. Kara turns to find the source and quietly floats to the direction of it. 

She finds a dark-haired woman on a building balcony. She has her face to the sky, her eyes closed as she let the raindrops wash over her. She is wearing a maroon waistcoat over her soaked dress shirt. Kara notices her matching suit jacket on the floor, beside her high heels. The woman looks at peace like this, and Kara would have let her at it if it wasn’t for her racing heartbeat. 

Not that she thinks the woman would jump. But still. 

Kara wants to call out to her and ask what she was doing out in the rain—surely she is human, and Kara knows the cold isn’t too comfortable, especially in soaked clothes. It takes a few moments for Kara to realize that the woman is silently crying, her breath trembling, tears hidden away with the raindrops on her face.

A gust of wind blows past. The sound of Kara’s cape billowing breaks the quiet, and it makes woman opens her eyes.

Green eyes widen in surprise as they lock with Kara’s own. She is startled, understandably so; her heartbeat spikes and Kara placates her with hands raised, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Sorry,” Kara murmurs. The woman lets out a small breath of relief. Her eyes stay on Kara—sharp, alert, bright green eyes that remind the blonde of Midvale. 

Kara likes to think she believes in love, or at least what Winn called the _ wapow! _moment. That you’ll meet someone and it just hits you. Love, or whatever. 

And, well, Kara thought she had that with James. It had been whirlwind attraction and romance that she had to let go of before it could even start, though it largely had to do with the weight of the cape she wore. That was over now, and Kara wasn’t exactly looking for _ anything, _but…

But here she is, several stories off the ground, gaze locked with a crying stranger who sniffles and crosses her arms defensively and all Kara could think of is pieces falling into place—not exactly a _ wapow! _moment. It felt more to Kara like watching the sun peek through the clouds after a storm, all warm on her skin despite it still raining. 

“Supergirl,” the woman says. Her voice is soft, like she is tired, and for a moment Kara is surprised she knows who she is until she remembered the symbol on her chest. The woman looks up, past Kara. “How high up do you have to be until the rain is no more?” 

Kara looks up, too. The raindrops fall on her face as she takes in the dark clouds. It hadn’t rained until today, and it’s been raining non-stop for a few hours, but she knows that up there, past the storm clouds, is still. She’s flown there a few times, alongside aircrafts. She sighs and meets the woman’s gaze.

“I can take you up there if you’d like,” she offers. 

The woman smiles sadly. Kara finds that it makes her ache, somehow. “I’m afraid of heights,” the woman says.

“Why are you there then?”

Kara hears her heartbeat race anew and the woman glances past the balcony railings. Kara feels cold all of a sudden as she meets green eyes, still as bright, but hazy with something like resignation. Defeat. 

“It’s been an exhausting few months,” she finally says.

Kara likes to think she’s well-acquainted with grief: She thinks of Krypton yet again, of stardust, of the fact that sooner or later, the night sky will no longer have the memory of the long-dead planet. She thinks of her parents, of the friends and family she had on Krypton, all the life and love she once had, now gone. 

But in its place is Earth—her life as Kara Danvers. Alex. Eliza. James and Winn. Ms. Grant. CatCo. Even Hank and the DEO. No longer lost, no longer the lonely girl in the pod. Home. 

Kara approaches and sits on the balcony, her hands on the railing as she lets her legs dangle off the ledge. She’s half-floating, half-sitting, the rain still washing over the pair of them. She looks up the sky, then offers the woman a small smile. “Want to talk about it?”

The woman laughs. It lacks humor, and Kara aches once more. “Do you know who I am?” 

Kara looks sheepish. “No,” she says with a light shrug. “Sorry?”

“It’s not—” The raven-haired woman chuckles and it’s a flower through the cracks. She shakes her head. “I wasn’t demanding you to know me. It’s just…” She sighs. She takes a careful step, bare feet on the pool of rainwater on the balcony. Her hands settle on the railing. “I’m Lena Luthor.”

Kara tries to hide her surprise. _ Lena Luthor. _Lex’s sister. Of course. Kara has read of her. Witness to his many crimes, heir to Luthor Corp and the damage left in the wake of Lex’s madness.

Still, Kara only shrugs. “So?”

“So,” Lena says with a sigh, her gaze unfocused as she keeps her head forward. “By the virtue of my last name and the symbol on your chest, you’re supposed to hate me.”

After a second, Kara hums. Lena seems to take it as an affirmation of her thoughts; she reacts with a sharp intake of breath. Nerves. _ Fear. _

Kara knows little of the actual history between Lex Luthor and Superman. Clark has only ever mentioned it in passing—partly because he doesn’t bring up much of his superheroics in respect to the life Kara chose as a civilian, before she donned the cape—but it had been all over the news, when she was younger. She knows it was born of hate, xenophobia, and in the end it’s compassion that won. 

So long ago, it seems. Kara remembers the people’s fury and vitriol, the darkness to the Luthor name. She doesn’t know how young Lena was then, but she still seems young now, and Kara begins to understand her uncertainty—her fear. 

“I judge people based on the merits of their actions, not by their last name,” she says softly, gaze on dark clouds. 

She can feel Lena glance at her at that. Lena doesn’t say anything, but she does look like she is studying Kara—Supergirl—closely. Kara swallows thickly; those sharp green eyes hold no malice, just curiosity, disbelief, _ hope. _

Like Kara is the first person in a long, long while who managed to look past Lena’s last name. 

Kara is kind of familiar with the concept. People look at Supergirl and see Superman—beacon of truth, justice, and the American way, and place upon her the same expectations of a hero that no mistakes were taken lightly during her first few weeks. It wasn’t easy. It still isn’t. She is only bulletproof, after all. 

Kara lets out a deep breath and reaches out her hand, letting the raindrops land on her palm. “You are not your brother,” she says softly, then turns to Lena. “The same way I am not Superman. I like to think that should account for something.” 

Kara says it casually, but it seems to make the last of Lena’s control slip away—she tries to hold back the tears, sure, but Kara can hear the way her breathing trembles. The heroine carefully brings her free hand to Lena’s shoulder, which was tense with effort. 

Lena looks at her hand like it’s a life raft thrown at a stormy sea and she relaxes under Kara’s touch. She looks up to meet ocean eyes and the blonde smiles. 

“A Super and a Luthor, working together,” Kara says. “They won’t see that coming, will they?”

Lena laughs, and however soft the sound, Kara hears it loud and clear—not because of her superhearing, but because Lena is all she could see in this moment: the sun rising in the east, warmth in her bones, the life that thrives in Kara’s very veins. 

What was that Winn said? _ Wapow. _

“No,” Lena smiles at Kara. “I suppose they won’t.”

They fall into silence then; Kara pulls her hand away and rests it on the railing. She accidentally brushes against Lena’s hand but the woman doesn’t pull away. They watch the rain for a while. Kara feels the woman’s warmth and thinks of the sun once more. 

“Ms. Luthor?”

Kara hears the voice first, and she turns to see a woman peek through the slightly-open door to what Kara guesses is Lena’s office. 

“Duty calls,” Lena sighs softly. 

Kara offers the young Luthor a smile as she floats off the railings where she sat. Lena watches with awe, and Kara thinks it’s a much more beautiful sight in her eyes than sadness. “I’ll be on my way then.” 

Lena nods firmly. Before Kara could leave, the heroine moves forward, meeting green eyes once more. “I look forward to working with you, Ms. Luthor.” 

Lena blinks a few times, her eyes still clouded with disbelief, but then a ghost of a smile graces her lips. Hope. Pieces falling into place—peace, somehow, despite the exhaustion in her frame. 

“I look forward to that, too, Supergirl.”

* * *

The next day, during the editorial meeting, Ms. Grant hands out folders about L-Corp and demands coverage of the Luthor Corp rebrand—the biggest PR disaster of the century, she calls it, and if saved by this new CEO, perhaps a phoenix from the ashes. James ends up assigning the interview to Kara, telling her he’s coming as her photographer. She isn’t as well-seasoned as the other CatCo reporters, but James says her optimism would be a good lens to look at the L-Corp rebrand from—it’s a new beginning, after all. She hopes to bring it justice. 

They manage to secure an appointment that afternoon—quite a feat, considering how packed the L-Corp CEO’s schedule is, but not that surprising when one considers the pull of Cat Grant. 

Kara waits patiently with James at the lobby. L-Corp isn’t exactly what she expected on the inside, though Kara isn’t entirely sure what she expected of it. It’s just like any office, but the floor of Lena Luthor’s office is different—almost quiet. Empty. Blank. 

Then again, they are here for a fresh start. 

She fidgets with the notebook on her lap. The day before feels like a dream. Kara thinks of the lingering warmth in her hand as she flew home, thinks of the stars in Krypton, the green of Lena’s eyes. 

“Ms. Danvers?” Jess, the secretary, calls from her desk. Kara stands so quickly that for a moment, she worries about breaking the couch. Jess smiles. “Ms. Luthor will see you now.”

Kara nods, her ponytail swishing. James follows her to the office with a _ thank you _to Jess. Kara fidgets with her glasses as she steps into the spacious room and finds Lena in her seat, looking out the floor-to-ceilling windows. There are no traces of the storm clouds from yesterday, like the sky had finished washing off the city with rain the day prior, remnants of the past gone. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Luthor,” Kara greets. Straightens her back, straightens her already straight glasses. 

Lena turns in her seat. Sharp green eyes focus on Kara—alert, curious. 

“Lena, please," she says, a woman washed clean of the imagined sins of her last name, hope in her eyes borne of a stranger’s trust. Lena’s heartbeat flutters—or was that Kara’s own? "Kara Danvers, was it?"

Lena tilts her head, studying Kara, until a knowing smile settles on red-painted lips, the sun rising. Kara melts. 

"Do you think it'll rain tonight?" Lena asks. 

Kara should be terrified that someone knows. That a _Luthor, _of all people, knows, but she just looks out the sliding door to the balcony, still closed, and sees the memory of her and Lena, just the day before. She meets Lena's eyes and smiles. 

"I think it'll be a good night to meet a friend."


End file.
